


I Wish I Knew

by YoranceOrWhatever



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Adrian is Lance?, Artist Keith!, Bakery, Book references!, Could also be galra keith altean lance!, I don't write NSFW, It's overall pretty pg, Keith is Marinette, M/M, Miraculous AU, My first fic, My sister keeps playing ear-rape videos help, PINING KEITH, Slow burn (I'm sorry), Theater Kid Lance!, You don't have to know miraculous to read this, pining lance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-07-06 01:05:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15875337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YoranceOrWhatever/pseuds/YoranceOrWhatever
Summary: Lance didn't expect to get superpowers this summer that turned him into a paladin of Altea. In fact, he didn't expect anything interesting to happen this summer, but thankfully, something did. After meeting the weird Coran, Lance received his Miraculous, making him one of the world's first high school heroes. And then there's Yorak, the hero he fights alongside that Lance wants to be close with. If only he knew who he was...Keith didn't want to move to Altea. It was a place in the middle of nowhere that held no excitement. But Shrio's new job forced him and Adam to move there as a family over the summer. Helping a weird man with an orange mustache was the best thing to happen to him. It was how he became the best hero of Altea. He fights with the Tailor who, for some reason, keeps flirting with him. He can't let The Tailor know who he is. He'll be too disappointed.When they both go to their first day of school, they meet by chance and become rivals. Well, it's more of a one-sided rivalry. But after an interesting encounter with Lance, Keith realises that maybe the move to Altea won't be the worst thing in the world.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!
> 
> It's my first fic! And I'm scared? I hope you guys like it. I'm gonna keep this short, so my sister is making this into a comic. You can follow her IG @I_Wish_I_Knew_Klance. I'll be running it too. I'm thankful to you guys for reading and I hope you enjoy!
> 
> ~YOW

Lance did not want today to be a normal day. Nope, he definitely did not. Normal was boring and Lance hated everything boring. That's why when he saw the news about a suspicious-looking Galra taking a familiarly beautiful girl hostage in that weird concrete park, Lance was genuinely, and very weirdly, excited.

"Blue," he yelled to himself. "Form Voltron!"

He had no idea where the words came from, or what the heck a Voltron was, but he said them anyway. Because that's what he does. That's what he was born to do.

He felt the familiar tingle start at the base of his toes and stretch out to his eyes. He closed them and felt the power of Blue course through him. Opening his eyes, a familiar blue light shone out as his dark, skin-tight suit bonded with his body. He felt the familiar blue cat ears spring upon his head as his perfectly messed-up brown hair turned wavy and white. Looking down, he saw the V-shaped form stretch out across his chest and from it formed the armor, bulky and white, allowing the blue to pop impressively on his torso. One day, he thought, I'll ask Coran to make me a better suit.

When his eyes calmed back to their natural color, Lance knew the transformation was done. He looked at himself in the mirror, admiring how the outfit accentuated his broad chest and shoulders. Grinning, he felt the blue eye-mask covering his face and his long, metallic tail stretching far enough to be visible, but short enough so that it's actually possible for him to walk without tripping. He felt the glowing blue marks under his eyes, still astonished by the fact that they felt exactly like his skin. He had to look good. Because chances are, Yorak is gonna be there. He always is.

God, Yorak is such a stupid name, Lance thought as he stretched his arms and then sprinted towards his bedroom window, jumping out of it and activating his built-in jetpack to quickly carry him to the location of the fight.

~~~

When he arrived, the battle had already started. He saw Yorak, dark-haired and angry, trying desperately to get the Galra soldier to release the girl by talking to him. Like that'll work. Lance landed a few ways behind the soldier, hidden by a rock, and unhooked his bayard from his hip. He knew Yorak was aware of his presence because of the way his features relaxed when he arrived. Lance saw the tension in his shoulders fade away just the tiniest bit. As moody and untrusting as Yorak seemed to be, he was a softie at heart... or at least Lance hoped he was.

He felt his bayard form in his hands, transforming from a small, hand-held... thing into an elongated sniper rifle while he thought. His fingers tapping restlessly on the rifle, Lance stood a little higher and planted the gun on the rock, while, unknowingly chipping a piece off and hearing it clatter loudly on the concrete floor. Seriously, Lance thought. Did they have to really make this park full of concrete? Who's idea was this? Lance watched the Galra soldier straighten slightly and begin to turn his head. The girl cried out as he tightened his grip on her. Yorak summoned his blade.

He must have seen the panic in Lance's eyes because instead of attacking the soldier, he proceeded to have a coughing fit so sudden and intense that the soldier's head snapped quickly back to him. In the midst of the coughs, Lance could have sworn he muttered: "Don't miss." He grinned widely and winked at Yorak when he finished coughing.

"I won't," he mouthed. Lance leveled his eye with the gun and began to take aim. He had to be careful. He couldn't miss.

"You're a fool to think you'll win, Yorak," the soldier boasted. "I already have the girl."

"Release Nyma right now, fool," Yorak demanded sarcastically. The soldier scowled as the girl, supposedly named Nyma, gasped loudly. The soldier had just pulled out a gun and placed it firmly against her head.

"Say goodbye to the girl, little paladi-"

He never got to finish that sentence.

Lance watched as his unconscious body hit the floor limply. Nyma scrambled away, her face bright red against the pale of her arms. She was beautiful, that was true. But Lance only had eyes for someone else. He watched as she thanked them quickly and ran off to school. He'll see her later in History, but right now was not the time to think about that. he can't believe he didn't know her name until now. Weird.

"Took you long enough, Tailor," Yorak kicked aside the soldier's body as he walked over, apparently unshaken by the current turn of events. "I was thinking of looking for a new sidekick"

Lance scoffed. "Sidekick? We all know the real sidekick is you, Yorak."

Yorak scowled at the sarcastic use of his name, his purely yellow eyes flashing dangerously against his purple body. His armor was similar to Lance's except it was red instead of blue. It was complete with the mask and tail, but instead of ears appearing randomly on top of his head, purple ears sprung out of his hair, apparently connected to his head. And his hair. Oh God, his hair was horrible. It was a dark feathery mullet with almost-invisible purple highlights.

Lance smirked and Yorak relaxed a bit.

"Thanks for coming," he muttered. "That was a good shot."

"Don't mention it, mullet," Lance replied softly. He held out his fist and Yorak did the same. They bumped their fists together and Lance winked. Again. His bayard beeped wildly in his hand. Had it been three minutes already? Yorak watched as Lance struggled to find the words to tell Yorak he had to go, but he understood.

"Go," Yorak grinned. "I know you'll change back soon. Have fun on your first day of school, sharpshooter."

"Yeah, you too," Lance replied. As he was turning away, Lance stopped. Yorak raised an inquisitive eyebrow. Lance inhaled a sharp breath and asked, "Why can't I know who you are?"

Yorak's bayard beeped.

"Tailor, we talked about this," he sighed. "If we knew, you'd be disappointed in me. I'm not who you think I-"

"Oh my God!" Lance cried. "Don't you see I couldn't care less about who you are? I just wish I knew-"

"I know." Yorak looked longingly out at the park. The morning sunlight was shining through the few trees the concrete park held. "But trust me. You don't want to know who I am."

Lance watched as Yorak sprinted away, leaving him alone. Again. He sighed and flew back home, immediately transforming back to his normal, uninteresting self the second his toes hit the floor. He tousled his brown hair and started changing into his school clothes: a pair of faded blue jeans, his favorite baseball tee (white with blue arms) and his lucky green jacket. Slipping on his gray high-tops, Lance kissed his mom goodbye, rubbed the head of his nephew affectionately, and left for the Garrison, backpack slung across his shoulder. It was his first day back, and nothing, absolutely nothing, could make it worse.

~~~

"Lance!" someone screamed. Lance turned his head in time to see a small green blur race past the lockers and leap toward him. Lance caught her with ease, lowering her cautiously to the ground.

"Woah, Pidge!" Lance laughed. Pidge adjusted her glasses and grinned up at him. "Hello to you too!"

"Yeah, ok hi. But look." Pidge shoved her phone under Lance's nose. He saw footage of him and Yorak talking and Yorak sprinting away. Lance smiled a bit at the sight of them together but coughed quickly to cover it up.

Pidge, bless her soul, was unaware of Lance's kind-of-not-really crush on Yorak. That was good.

"They made another appearance this morning!" she rambled, pulling her phone back. "They saved Nyma and she's the most popular girl in school now!"

She scrolled hurriedly on her phone and then shoved it back in his face. "See?"

A picture of Nyma was circling the school. She was signing autographs and telling stories to onlookers, her blonde pigtails framing her heart-shaped face. Her blue eyes glowed as she retold the story of how Yorak and he- or Yorak and Tailor- saved her. Lance reached for her phone unknowingly and Pidge snatched it away.

"Don't touch my stuff," she hissed. Lance laughed.

"That's the Pidge I remember!"

"Pidge? Lance?" Lance heard the familiar sound of a man and turned his head.

"Hunk!" Lance sprinted to the big man, laughing wildly as they hugged.

"I haven't seen you all Summer, man," Hunk said, letting him go. "What's up with that?"

"Oh, um..." Lance racked his brain for an excuse. There is no way that they are going to know that he is The Tailor. That's what Coran and Allura said. He can't tell them that he gained superpowers he can only use to save Altea and needed to train all freaking summer with his school therapist no less.

Lance McClain to the Principal's Office please, the intercom buzzed. Lance McClain to the Principal's Office.

Lance let out a sigh of relief and then realized. He was Lance McClain.

"Oh my-Lance? What'd you do now?" Pidge asked, rolling her eyes.

Hunk titled his eyebrows to look down on him. "Yeah, Lance. What did you do?"

"Nothing! I swear!" Lance cried. He jogged down the hall, towards the Principal's Office, heart beating fast. "I'll see you later!"

Lance arrived at the front desk in a minute. The receptionist looked up at him behind her thick, dusty glasses. She grinned.

"Lance?" she asked. "Lance McClain?"

"Yep, that's me," Lance replied. He heard his voice waver a bit. What did he do to deserve this? He did not want detention on the first day of school. That would suck!

"Great." the receptionist pressed a button on her phone and muttered something about Lance arriving.

"Send him in," the principal said through the phone. The receptionist sighed and gestured to the door.

"You know what to do," she smiled. Lance crept feebly to Mrs. Montgomery's door and knocked. The laughing inside stopped abruptly. Were they laughing at me? Lance thought as the door opened. Mrs. Montgomery was a bit shorter than him. She had brown hair that reached her shoulders and glasses that slid down her nose a bit. She smiled up at Lance and said, "Come in."

Lance followed her through the door and closed it after him. He noticed a strangely quiet kid sitting in one of the chairs in front of Mrs. Montgomery's desk. He was staring at his hands, his black hair covering his face.

"Please," Mrs. Montgomery said. "Sit."

Lance sat obediently next to the quiet kid. He saw him glance up at him through his oddly long hair. Lance smirked.

"This is Keith." Mrs. Montgomery sat in her chair and folded her hands. "He's a new student here and since you guys share almost the same schedule, I thought you'd like to show him around."

Lance turned back to Keith and said, "Yeah, of course."

"Keith? Are you fine with this?" she asked. Lance heard Keith take in a ragged breath.

"Sure," he said. His voice was kind of deep for a junior. Lance wished he had a deeper voice. He fidgeted with the loose string on the chair and looked back to Mrs. Montgomery just in time to see her clap her hands together.

"Then it's settled! I already excused you both from homeroom, so just go on ahead to your first class."

Lance and Keith muttered their goodbyes and walked out into the hall. They walked around in silence for a bit, Lance uncomfortably tapping his hand on his leg. Keith seemed content with the silence as he followed Lance. There was no one in the halls, just the two of them, as they stalked quietly to their History class.

"Soooo..." Lance started, turning around to walk backward and face Keith. Keith's head jerked up, startled. Lance saw a flash of purple in his dark irises. His black, shoulder-length hair getting tousled as it was thrown back. He was clearly Asian, but Lance didn't know what kind. He didn't really want to ask. Keith was attractive, plain and simple. But he just... wasn't Lance's type. He was too weird and quiet. He doesn't even think they'll be friends. Might as well stay acquaintances. "Why'd you transfer here?"

Keith replied, "My brother switched jobs. Well, half-brother. I kind of live with him so I get to come here free."

"Lucky!" Lance sighed. "I had to get an extra job at the Altea Bakery just to help my parents pay for tuition here. You should visit the place when you're free. Anyway, who's your brother?"

"His name's Takashi Shirogane, but we just call him Shiro," Keith muttered, glancing around the hall. God, this kid is unsettling, Lance thought. Nevertheless, he continued to smile and snap his fingers thoughtfully.

"Ohhh, Shiro! Yeah, we'll have his class the third period. What's your elective? Mine is Drama. My friends say I'm a bit dramatic, so I figured, why not take a class on it? Oh! You have to meet my friends, Hunk and Pidge! They're super nice!" Keith listened to Lance ramble and smiled slightly. He knew he was changing the subject more quickly. He knew he was rambling because he always rambles when he gets comfortable around someone. He guessed he's comfortable around Keith now. Maybe they could be friends? Lance shook the thought out of his head.

"I take art," Keith said, his voice a bit louder than it was before. Lance saw his eyes light up. "It's one of my favorite things to do, drawing. I just, really like it."

"That's good," Lance said softly. He spun back around and put his hand on a door. "Here it is! After you, good sir."

Keith snorted and walked through the door. Lance smirked and went in after him. Yeah. Maybe they could be friends.

~~~

...Or maybe not. Lance scowled. The day was getting gloomy and Keith was twirling his hair, talking to Allura. She was a senior and was, like, Lance's sister! Lance grumbled and marched over to them. Keith laughed and so did Allura. She planted a hand on his shoulder and Lance felt his insides fume.

"What's going on here?" Lance asked when he reached them. "Keith lay off!"

"Relax, Lance," Allura said in her hauntingly beautiful accent. "We're just talking."

"Talking? Sure," Lance seethed. "He was clearly flirting with you."

Lance saw Keith roll his eyes. "Chill, Lance, I wasn't flirting with your girlfriend."

Lance scoffed and grabbed Allura's arm. "Come on," he grumbled. "We're leaving."

When they were far enough away, Allura sighed. "Lance, was that really necessary?"

"Yes! That mullet-growing jerk was trying to ask you out!" Lance cried. Allura sighed.

"No, he wasn't. Trust me." Allura slunk out of Lance's hold. "Take Keith to class. I have English."

Lance scowled and walked over to where Keith was standing patiently. "Let's go," he said roughly. Keith started following him, not saying a word. "You can eat with us at lunch, but you are sitting far, far away from me. Understand?"

"Yes, sir." Keith sarcastically saluted to him. Lance ignored it, focusing on his task to get them both to their next class.

Before they reached the door, Lance muttered, "She's not my girlfriend."

"What?" Keith asked.

"Allura. She's not my girlfriend. But she's like a sister to me, so she's off limits. No flirting with her, ok? Please?"  
Keith sighed. "Seriously, Lance. That won't be a problem."

"Right," Lance murmured, walking into class. "Not a problem at all."

An hour and a half later, they had lunch. Lance showed Keith to his table and Keith, true to his word, sat on the other side of it, glaring pointedly at Lance. Lance felt a pang of guilt but ignored it as Hunk and Pidge slid into their seats, across from Lance.

"Uhhh, who's that?" Pidge asked, shoving a thumb in Keith's direction. Keith ate quietly, ignoring her.

"Oh, that's just Keith. He-"

"Keith! Why are you sitting so far away? Come over here!" Hunk called before Lance could finish. He groaned as Keith obediently picked up his lunch tray and sat next to Lance.

"Hey," he said. Lance ignored him.

: "Sorry about Lance," Pidge said calmly, stabbing a piece of mystery meat with her fork. "He gets like this sometimes."

Lance felt Keith's gaze, but refused to look at him.

"He's really very stubborn," Hunk continued. They finished lunch in silence and Lance headed to Drama while Keith left for art, eyebrows pinched and lips pursed in a tight form.

~~~

At the end of the day, Lance hung out by his locker, waiting for the school to empty out before he walked home. He grabbed his emergency umbrella, the one he kept in his locker, and started to head outside.

It was pouring out, and weirdly empty. Except for one person standing uncomfortably outside, his fingerless gloves pinching the arms of his red jacket. He opened his umbrella and ran outside.

"Oh, for the love of-Keith!" Lance called. Keith turned to the sound of his name, sheltered under the outdoor awning of the school. The wind whipped his hair around his face and Lance felt flush. He had no idea why.

"What do you want, Lance? You here to ignore me some more? Maybe yell at me again?" Keith seethed, arms crossing tighter across his chest. "You think I was flirting with Allura? Well here's a news flash, you don't know me! If you did, you'd have known that I have no interest in girls whatsoever, so just... stop. Stop being mean to me! I'm done with everyone thinking they're better than me just because I'm... different."

Lance froze, letting Keith's words sink in. Was he ace? Like Pidge? Or was he...

"You're gay?" Lance asked softly. He saw Keith's eyes widen as he just realized what he said. He turned away from Lance.

"Go away," Keith hissed, pressing the heels of his palms to his eyes. "You'll never understand what it's like to be-"

Lance thrust his umbrella out to Keith. He stopped talking, staring at Lance. The wind howled and the rain poured faster. Lance forced a smile, facing out to the parking lot.

"I understand more than you think," he muttered. He shook his umbrella a bit, urging Keith to take it, yet still refusing to look at him. "You're walking home, right? Shiro had to stay for the teachers' meeting, I assume, and you don't want to stay. Just take it. I have a bunch at home."

Keith slowly grabbed the handle and stared at Lance.

"Thanks." He said. Lance shrugged.

"Don't mention it. See you tomorrow." Lance sprinted away, leaving Keith standing under the awning, holding Lance's umbrella. And if maybe Lance had stayed, if he just had the courage to look at Keith, he would have seen his face turning a deep crimson as he watched the beautiful Cuban boy bound away from the school, hair and clothes soaked so that Keith could stay dry.


	2. Keith's Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith's summer didn't exactly go to plan. He was supposed to stay home and do normal things, like his summer reading assignment... or not do it. Whatever works for him.
> 
> What he definitely did not expect was receiving a red lion that turned him into Altea's greatest hero.
> 
> So much for normal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!
> 
> I'm really sorry this took so long. Homework was kicking my butt and the fires out here are getting worse. I won't really have a specific schedule (Sorry if you were looking forward to one), but I'll tell you guys whenever I post on our Instagram (@I_Wish_I_Knew_Klance).
> 
> So this is Keith's backstory. I hope you like it! I am also adding some cussing from now on because I feel like it would make the story better? Idk... 
> 
> Also, I feel like this chapter came out a lot better than the last one. And at about 5,000 words, it'll be a longer read. So get ready for that.
> 
> Thanks for waiting! Or if you're new, hi!
> 
> Hope you stick around.
> 
> ~YoranceOrWhatever
> 
> PS: I'M FIXING ALL TYPOS VERY SOON! I'M JUST GETTING THE CHAPTER OUT NOW FOR YOU ALL!

"Remind me again why we're moving to the middle of nowhere in this cold-ass car," Keith complained stretching out his legs between the front seats and taking out one of his earbuds. Adam flinched and pushed his feet away from his arm.

"Can we not use that kind of language, please?" he sighed.

"What? Ass? You don't want me to say ass?" Keith saw Adam shift in his seat and smirked.

"Yes," Adam scowled. "Stop cussing."

"Don't talk to me like that." Keith sneered. "You're not my da-"

"Keith!" Shiro banged on the steering wheel, causing the car to swerve a bit. A car honked violently behind them and passed Shiro, but not before throwing an obscene gesture his way. Shiro let go of the wheel with his prosthetic arm and pinched the bridge of his nose."Can we not do this today?" he begged. " _Please_?"

Keith's face softened a bit. Yeah, he was mad about leaving behind his old school, his _awesome_ school, in favor for a school that doesn't even have a fencing team! He was _pissed_. But Shiro's voice calmed him down. He felt guilty immediately and pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes.

"Ok, ok." Keith grumbled. "I'm sorry."

"Thank you," Adam said quietly. They drove in silence, listening to some pitchy artist on the radio. Keith turned up his volume and listened to his calm playlist. It's the only playlist that reminds him to breathe and to stay, well, calm. He turned it up all the way and closed his eyes. He understood why people think he likes emo music so much. If he's honest, he does. It's just so _good_. But it's not the only thing he listens to. Keith loves all music. Except classical. Classical sucks.

"...eith.Keith!" Keith ripped out his earbuds and stared at Shiro.

"What?" he asked. Shiro rolled his eyes.

"I was just answering your question," he responded, mumbling "Not that we've told you a million times."

Now it was Keith's turn to roll his eyes.

"I know! We're moving to Altea because you two got a teaching job at Garrison High and I'm gonna be the new kid that everything hates."

"Keith..." Adam turned back in his seat, but Keith put in his earbuds and closed off the world. He saw Shiro reach for the temperature dial and turn up the heat. Keith closed his eyes. Why did they have to move?

~~~

Keith shouldered his dufflebag and grabbed his breakfast from the toaster.

 _Shit, I'm late_ , he thought as he wrenched opened the door and shoved the toast in his mouth. He gagged. Unbuttered toast is _nasty_.

"Shiro! Adam! I'm off to practice!" he called out behind him, spitting out the toast and tossing the rest onto the floor. He listened to the clacking noise of paws approaching as Kosmo trotted over to Keith. He ruffled Kosmo's head.

"See ya, Kosmo," he muttered, watching as Kosmo ate the rest of the unfinished toast. He slammed the door and sprinted outside.

Keith rounded the corner, panting hard in his red t-shirt and black jeans. He approached a crosswalk and pressed the crossing button.

"Come on, come _on_!" he seethed, bouncing on the balls of his feet anxiously. He barely noticed the strange man stepping onto the road and out into traffic. Keith's averted gaze snapped to the man's bright orange hair.

"Hey," Keith yelled. "Hey, what are you doing?" The man didn't stop walking. Keith started to get a bit more anxious.

" _Dude_! What are you-" Keith was cut off by a long, bellowing honk. He turned his head and saw a giant truck hurtling towards the man. Keith didn't even think.

He launched himself at the man, dropping his dufflebag on the floor. Faster than he'd ever gone before, Keith sprinted down the crosswalk and wrapped his arm around the man's shoulder. He dropped to the floor and they rolled, one on top of the other until they hit the curb on the other side. He felt his arm ache and refused to look at it. Keith spit the man's hair out of his mouth and sat up groggily. The truck had passed, leaving the chaos behind like nothing ever happened.

The man stood up quickly and smoothed out his hair. _Of course_ , Keith thought. _Not a scratch on him._

The man reached down and offered a hand to Keith, excitedly saying, "Thanks, young man!"

Keith frowned and ignored his hand, standing up on his own. "What were you _thinking_?" he asked. "You could've gotten yourself killed!"

The man twirled his mustache and grinned. "Well that's quite alright," he said. "I'm Coran. What's your name?"

"Keith." He dusted off his shirt and winced as his arm shot a slice of pain through his body.

"That doesn't look very good," Coran sympathized, stroking his handlebar mustache. Keith looked down at his arm and cringed. His entire arm was red, scraped to the bone... metaphorically of course. And naturally, there were a few random cuts, but none of them were as bad as this. Keith suddenly felt light-headed and he turned away. "Come with me, I'll patch it up for you."

"I don't think-" Keith was cut off when Coran held out his dufflebag. "Wait, wasn't that..." He turned quickly to the other side and frowned. There was nothing there but an old lady, wait, no a girl about his age with dark skin and astonishingly long white hair. She started when he saw her and looked away.

Coran jumbled the bag, catching his attention, and Keith took it from him with his non-gag-worthy arm. It seemed a little heavier than before, but that must have been due to blood loss.

Besides, it wasn't that much heavier...

~~~

He followed Coran to an old antique shop, filled with sharp blades and old miniature statues of shipwrecks. It was the shop's symbol that struck out to Keith the most, however. A giant robotic lion's head sat under the words _VOLTRON_ , written in big blocky letters.

"What's a Voltron?" Keith asked Coran, who was heading towards the back door.

"It's the most powerful fighting source of Altea. It helps us defeat all evil, as the kids say. Now, head upstairs, I'll be there in a second." Coran swung open the door and walked away. Keith walked inside, following the staricase up, up, up until he reached the attic, which was surprisingly well-furnished with modern couches and a large flatscreen TV.

Keith figured that if he were being kidnapped his future as a captive wouldn't be that bad.

Coran walked through the open door and ushered Keith to sit on the couch. Keith did just that, placing his ankle atop his knee, then thinking better of it and placing both feet on the floor, one knee bouncing rapidly to the beat of his frantic heart.

Why was he so nervous?

Coran, noticing Keith's unusual energy, asked, "Why are you so nervous, boy?"

Keith looked down at his hands.

"I... don't know. Something feels off," he admitted. Coran scoffed.

"Well of course something feels off! Your arm is torn to _shreds_!"

Keith frowned. That... wasn't exactly what he meant, but he'll take it. Coran sat across from him and took his arm gently into his hand. He grabbed a cloth and poured some liquid that smelled horridly bitter onto it.

"Rubbing alcohol," Coran explained. "This might hurt."

Keith winced as the cloth touched his arm. It sent up a sharp sting of pain shooting through his body. Clenching his teeth, Keith closed his eyes and waited for the stinging to subside. By the time he opened them, his arm was disinfected and bandaged, not a drop of blood seeping through.

"Thanks," Keith said to Coran, staring at his arm. Coran smiled and stood up.

"You're welcome, my boy. Make sure to come visit any time you have questions."

"Questions? About wha-" Coran guided Keith down the stairs and shoved him out the front door.

"Go! You're late for practice," Coran yelled at Keith, shoving his duffle bag into his arms. Keith stared as Coran slammed the front door shut, blinking and confused about whatever the heck just happened. Shaking his head, Keith slowly turned and jogged his way to Garrison High.

Whatever that was needed to wait until practice was over.

~~~

"Shiro! Adam! I'm home!" Keith shouted into the house. He waited for a response, but no one answered. Sighing, Keith took off his shoes and set them beside the door before turning to the hall and opening the door to his room.

He recently remodled it. And, it looked much, much better in his opinion.

Three of the walls were black, with glow in the dark stars covering each one. Galaxies painted with glow in the dark paint by Shiro and Adam sat there too, adding a splash of color to each one. The fourth one had Keith's bed pushed against the center, Kosmo curled up against the black quilt. He was lucky that he didn't shed. Anyway, the wall was made of chalk paint, a cup of colorful chalk sitting on Keith's bedside table. Sometimes, if Keith woke up in the middle of the night from his nightmares, he would draw them out. Sometimes he drew his feelings, whirlwinds of reds and whites, swirling together in an endless, dancing vortex. Other times he drew what he saw. Images of guns, knives, and cars littered the wall. Shiro tried to get him to erase them, but Keith didn't want to forget.

He shouldn't forget.

The objects in the room were all very modern - Keith liked the modern lifestyle. His bedside table had a black and shiny top, a white stand holding it in place. His bookshelves, filled with fantasy, thriller, and science fiction novels, were hanging on black shelves on his black walls, blending in and creating a sense of floating, colorful books. His bed was black, thin, shiny black lines running up and down the blanket. The pillows and sheets, however, were white and stood out in stark contrast with the rest of the room. Keith liked it this way.

He shrugged the bag off his shoulder and trotted over to his bed, sitting gently on it and reaching out his hand to pat Kosmo's head. He stroked Kosmo's fur and smiled. He was so thankful for finding Kosmo in time. If he were even a minute too late... well, he didn't like to think about it.

Keith got up, against the whimpering protests of Kosmo and reached for the chalk. Doing the best he could, he redrew the lion he saw on Coran's antique shop, or "Voltron" as he called it. He wrote the word underneath in the same blocky letters of the shop.

Keith took a step back, tilted his head to both sides, and smiled.

"So, Kosmo. What do you think?" Keith looked at Kosmo expectantly until he barked.

"Interesting opinion... I like it too."

Before he could forget, Keith placed the bag on his bed, unzipped it, and reached inside.

He threw his ratty, sweaty clothes into his laundry basket that also doubled as a hamper and threw his fencing shoes into his closet. Keith leaves the rest of the stuff at the locker they give him at school, but he needed to wash out his clothes, They were _nasty_!

Before putting the bag back, he shook it out, checking to see if he left anything inside. Sure enough, a small red box fell out, a suspicious v-like symbol drawn carefully on the front.

"What the..." Keith picked up the box. That... was definitly something. Keith lifted the lid off the box and jumped.

A small red lion was racing around his head, quick and excited. Franticly, Keith stumbled back and swatted at the air. A red lion? A RED LION? Just floating around and-

 _I am the Red Lion,_ it told him. Keith sat, too shocked to speak, and froze, his eyes wide with fear. _No fucking duh_ , he thought. He gulped.

"What... what are you?" Keith asked, finally working up the nerve to talk. "Red Lion, Red, whatever, can you _please_ tell me what's going on? I must be dillusional..." Keith ran to the bathroom and splashed some water on his face. Maybe... maybe when he opened his eyes, it'll be gone?

 _Nope, still here_ , the lion said. Keith whipped around and placed his hands on the counter behind him, nearly knocking over all the items scattered on it. Shiro's eyeliner, a bottle of hair gel, and toothbrushes with... wait. Why was this a priority? Lion! Small flying red lion! In his house! What the actual _fuck_?

"How are you-with the-" Keith gestured wildly at his head and then at the lion. Blinking, he thought _Are you in my head?_ He willed it to not respond. Things can't just read minds, right? Then again, small flying red lions didn't pop up out of nowhere and start talking, so at this point, anything's fair game.

 _Yes, Keith. I'm in your head. It telepathic. Now will you please listen?_ The lion responded, hovering in front of Keith. Did he menttion that there's a small flying red lion in his bathroom or is he just going crazy? He blinked slowly and closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Ok, I'm listening," Keith answered, breathing deeply so as not to panic. Looking up, he saw the lion relax, or it seemed like it did. In his jolt of panic, he didn't realize that the lion was robotic. That could explain a lot of things. The lion was a drone! Obviously. It had to be some kind of joke.

Then how was it in his head?

Stress. Definitely stress.

 _This isn't stress, Keith. It's me. Now listen!_ Keith eyed the lion and crept back to his room, seeing Kosmo get up quickly and start growling at the lion. He stroked Kosmo's head and he stopped growling, looking pointedly at Keith as if saying, "You good? Robotic red lion is good now?" Keith simply nodded and sat down, Kosmo resting his head on Keith's lap.

 _So here's the deal, Keith_ , the lion said, planting itself on a pile of books and sitting on it calmly. _You have been chosen to be Altea's hero._

"Altea's _what_ now?" Keith's heart was starting to race and he clenched his teeth. _What is going on?_

Y _ou will fight alongside another. Just say the words "Form Voltron" and you will understand_. Then the lion just... shut off? Like a plastic action figure, it sat frozen on top of his sketch books. And sat... and sat... and kept sitting. No voices in his head. Keith frowned.

"Voltron." he's seen that word before... Then it clicked. Keith turned so fast that Kosmo's head jerked up, a wild look of confusion on his face. Standing, Keith walked over to his newest drawing and placed his fingers on the word.

"Vol...tron?" He thought back to what happened that day. What could have _possibly_ triggered that damn lion to come out? Think, think... Orange hair guy! With the mustache! What was his name, what's his name? Keith paced around the room, Kosmo watching him with interest. Finally, he snapped.

" _Coran_!"

But... now that he figured out who was responsible for this mess, Keith had to admit that he was curious about the words "Form Voltron."

The lion did say that once he said the words, he would understand...

Frowning, Keith muttered "Form Voltron?" feeling silly for talking to himself.

Immediatley, he felt a tingling sensation at the tips of his fingertips and toes. Not enough to be uncomfortable, but feeling rather nice, and he felt it spread like fire up the rest of his body. Panicking, Keith lifted his hands to his eyes, watching them turn fuzzy and purple.

"What's going on?" he asked Kosmo, who has once again resorted to barking as his defense mechanism. He felt his ears get bigger and his hair longer. Then, as suddenly as it started, it stopped. Everything. The tingling sensation was gone, replaced with eerie nothingness. Even Kosmo grew silent.

Breathing hard, Keith refused to look at his hands.

This couldn't be possible. Turning purple? Absolutely ridiculous! Couldn't be possible, couldn't have happened.

 _Oh, but it did,_ a familiar voice exclaimed in his head. Keith yelped, looking around for the lion, but it was gone! He started to grow worried. How can he hear it but not see it?

 _Because we are one, Keith. We fused_ , The lion, answered. Keith's eyes snapped to the ceiling.

"What do you mean 'we fused?'" Keith shouted angrily. "How is that _possible_?"

 _It is only possible through the lions,_ Red responded. _Now go. Take a look at your appearance in the mirror, Keith._

Refusing to answer, Keith stalked over to his full-length mirror and glanced up. His jaw dropped.

"Holy _shit_!" Keith shouted into his mirror. He was purple! And fuzzy! He was a goddamn furry! What the _fuck_!

"Why am I a furry!" Keith scream-shouted to the lion, checking his ears. They were long and pointy, like an elf's, poking through his hair so that they looked suspiciously like cat ears and his eyes were a bright yellow. No pupil.

At least his hair was still there... kind of.

It was longer and very, very dark. And purple. His hair was a very, very dark shade of purple. Like the one he and Shiro used when painting the galaxies on his walls. His outfit was odd too. Black and form-fitting, with chunks of armor all over. There were purple designs indented on the front, outlining his chest, and boots that fit perfectly and seemingly adapted to his feet with every step he takes. Then there was the cape. An average-sized, unironic cape hanging from his uniform, which, thank the _Lord_ , had a large black hood Keith could use to cover his eyes. He'd have to cut it down later. The cape, he means.

"Why am I a furry..." he asked again, much softer this time. He could practically feel the lion sigh.

_You're not a furry, Keith. You're Galra. Well, part Galra actually._

"What the _hell_ is a Galra?"

_Unimportant. What is important is the wellbeing of Altea. And you are in charge of that._

_Why am I in charge of that?_ Keith thought. He felt the lion sigh again.

Was he really that much of a disappointment?

That's when he heard the door bang open.

"Keith! We're home!" Shiro yelled into the house. He heard Shiro and Adam's muffled voices down the hall and started the panic.

"Shit, Red! They're home! What do I-"

_Relax, Keith. Jump out the window._

_I'm sorry, jump out the_ what _?_ Keith scowled and glanced at his open window.

_The window, Keith. Jump out of it._

Now would probably be a good time to mention that they lived in an apartment. Very high up. Five stories, to be specific. Keith ran a purple hand through his hair and walked to the window. He sucked in a breath.

"You want me to jump out of that? I'm literally going to _die_ if I do that! I can't-"

_Yes, you can. Just do it. Trust me._

"Keith? are you talking to anyone in there?" He heard Adam knock on his closed door and turned quickly.

"Oh, uh. Just on a call! With my... friends?" Keith responded, grasping the window ledge tightly and hoping Adam didn't try to open the door.

"Oh. Alright." He heard Adam walk away and Shiro trailing behind.

"Did you hear that Adam? He made friends..." Keith rolled his eyes and turned back to the window. Hopefully they didn't open his door for a while. Taking a deep breath, Keith stepped onto the ledge and perched on it.

 _Are you absolutely sure about this?_ Keith looked down and gulped. It was... really high up.

_Yes, Keith. Completely sure._

_Ok. Here we go. I'm gonna jump. I am going to jump off of this ledge and survive. Yep. That's what I'm going to do. Survive._

Before he could change his mind, Keith closed his eyes and jumped.

And fell. For a while.

Then he landed. And... it wasn't as painful as he thought. It wasn't painful at _all_ , actually. Frowning, he glanced at his legs. Not broken. Thank God. His arms weren't either, so that was good.

He seemed... intact. All in one piece.

_See? Now you have to get out of here. Run to Coran. You wanted to find him, right?_

_I mean... yeah?_ Keith looked up to his window and back down at his hands. Shrugging, he jogged across the street. Except, he wasn't really jogging? What felt like jogging was instantly much faster. It felt like he was sprinting across the street at twenty mph. Which was physically impossible, right? But after the day he had, this was nothing to get excited about. Super-speed and being a purple furry in one day is a lot to take in.

While jog-sprinting to Coran, Keith heard an explosion in the distance. He stopped and gawked as a bunch of people ran away screaming.

"Am I supposed to go to that?"

_Yes._

"Naturally," He muttered, full-on sprinting towards the noise.

~~~

When Keith arrived at the scene, the first thing he noticed was the white-haired, blue and white-clothed boy running around with a gun, blasting these weird robot creatures left and right.

"Hey!" The boy shouted, running over to Keith. "Why are you pur-"

"Look out!" Keith screamed, hand flying to his hip to find a blade (which definitely wasn't there before) hooked onto his belt. Without thinking, he threw the blade at an oncoming robot, watching as it collapsed into a twitching heap onto the floor. Keith jogged (actually jogged this time) to the robot and ripped the blade out, studying it carefully. He was so lost in thought that he jumped when the other boy cleared his throat.

"The name's Tailor. What's yours?" Tailor reached out a hand to Keith and grinned, the blue marks under his eyes shining brightly.

"Uhhh..." Keith wracked his brain to come up with a name. He immediately thought of his mom and the odd name she was going to give him. Perfect. "Yorak?"

"Yorak?" Tailor shouted over the blast of his gun. A robot fell to the ground and Tailor coughed at the smoke. "You're a purple furry named Yorak?"

"I'm _not_ a furry!" Keith shouted, stabbing a robot that tried to attack him. Tailor turned and stared at him. Keith stared back, noticing the bright blue eyes under the white hair plastered to his face from sweat. Without notice, Tailor placed his hand over Keith's. Keith jerked back suddenly, not expecting the surprise contact from a stranger. A good-looking stranger, yeah. But a stranger nonetheless.

"You feel pretty furry to me," Tailor shrugged and shot again at another oncoming robot.

"Ok, well... shut up. What are these things anyway?" Keith growled, not daring to spare a glance towards Tailor.

"Druids. I don't know how to stop them. They just keep coming. Any ideas?"

"Attack them at the base," Keith whispered quickly. He figured that if these were robots, they must have a power source. Louder this time, he shouted,  "I'll attack them at the base. You hold them off until I do."

"Roger that, Yorak." Tailor winked and saluted at Keith, who frowned and watched as he shot another druid.

"And Tailor?" Keith looked at the Tailor who turned to him. "If a druid attacks me, well. Don't miss."

Tailor smiled.

"Wouldn't dream of it, kitten."

Keith raised an eyebrow, clearly confused and Tailor sighed.

"You know. Cat ears?" he pointed at his and then Keith's. He drooped his head low when Keith continued to look at him confused and sighed again. "Nevermind."

Keith ran towards the building with smoke billowing out of the sides, ignoring that cringy attempt at friendship.

 _Was that my partner?_ he thought to Red.

_Yes, now go save Altea!_

Keith put on a burst of speed and ran faster until he reached the building. Thankfully, everyone had alrady evacuated.

He noticed a large spaceship planted on one side of the street, its left wing laying broken in a building. It was clear that the ship crashed from the large gap cutting across the office. Keith ran towards it and was jumped by two druids.

"What the-" Keith blindly swung the blade in front of him, slashing the two druids in front of him as easily as cutting through butter with a hot knife. The druids fell into a twitching mess and Keith pushed past them, reaching the ship.

He coughed at the smoke and squinted his eyes, surprised to see that he could, well, _see_. Still, the smoke hurt his eyes as he walked his way into the ship and looked around.

Everything was dark. The lights were out and it was a lot less smoky in here. Still, Keith could see - he guessed his new eyes had night vision? - and he walked over to the only slightly glowing thing in the room. It was a large power source, pulsing and magenta. Frowning. Keith lifted his blade, getting ready to stab the problem away.

 _This is too easy,_ he thought as he brought the blade down, cutting out the power source. He saw the source spark and disappear.

"Wha-" Keith dropped to his knees as the ship shook. He felt it lift on the ground, which was literally impossible due to the major damage the ship took.

But when did anything stick to possible these days?

The ship rose higher and Keith crawled to the open hatch he walked in through. _What is going on?_

He was extremely high up now, even higher than when he jumped out of his five-story bedroom window. Cursing, he saw Tailor running under him and shooting at the ship.

"What are you _doing_?" he shouted. Keith ducked to avoid getting shot.

"Stop firing, dumbass! You're gonna shoot me!" Keith jumped out of the hatch, hoping to every god created that he would survive the fall. Tailor, who was once the size of an ant at the height Keith was at, jumped and sidestepped as Keith landed next to him, stumbling wildly and shooting his arms out for balance. Tailor rushed forward and steadied him. Keith dusted his clothes off and thanked him.

"How'd you _do_ that?" Tailor asked, without even saying 'You're welcome,' which, by the way, was slightly rude. But whatever.

"I just jumped," Keith answered, tilting his head to the side.

"Well, yeah. No _shit_." Tailor crossed his arms and glanced at Keith's blade. "Nice knife, by the way. Why's the symbol blinking?"

"Oh. Thanks. I, uh, don't really know why it's doing that..." Keith rubbed the back of his neck and looked at the blade, which, as Tailor said, was blinking purple.

 _Get out_ , Red urged. _Get out now. Unless you want him to know who you are._

_You've gotta be kidding me._

"I have to go," Keith started running away and heard Tailor run after him.

"What? Why? We literally just met!"

Keith stopped running and looked at him.

"Listen, I'm gonna... change back. Soon. And if I don't get out of here, you're gonna know who I am. And I seriously can _not_ take that kind of pressure right now." Keith turned to run off again but felt a hand hold him back. Shaking it off, he side-eyed Tailor and frowned.

"Why?" He whispered. Keith shook his head.

"Not gonna happen. Sorry." And then he was running again, leaving Tailor staring after him in the ugly mess they made.

 _I hope someone will clean that up,_ Keith thought.

_They will._

~~~

He reached his room and collapsed onto his bed, feeling the similar tingling sensation that encased him when he changed. Shiro opened the door-right on time- and stood at the doorway, hands planted on his hips.

"Where were you?" He asked. Keith sighed, flipping onto his back and sitting up to face Shiro.

"Out."

"Well, _obviously_. Adam and I were worried sick!" Shiro walked over and sat down next to him, folding his hands on his lap.

"Well, don't worry. I'm fine." Keith raised his hands so Shiro could look. Sighing, Shiro looked at the floor.

"We're gonna have to punish you, you know."

"Yeah. I know. So what's it gonna be? Ground me for a week?"

"Yes. Actually. So hand over your phone."

Keith dug around in his pocket and fished out his phone, placing it into Shiro's open palm.

After a short pause, Shiro looked to Keith, locking him in with his serious eyes. He said, "Keith. You know I love you. And I really don't like seeing you so... stressed. So try to relax, ok? School starts soon and I don't want you feeling like you're alone. You _always_ have us. Me and Adam. And Kosmo too."

"Yeah, I know," Keith sighed, sitting back on his bed. Shiro stood up and walked to the door, placing a hand on the knob.

"Doors open at all times, please. From now on."

"Yeah, fine."

Shiro walked away and Keith fell back onto his pillow. Red flew out from under it, hovering in front of Keith's face.

_You're not gonna tell him about me either, ok?_

_Yeah, fine_ , Keith repeated. He heard footsteps in the hall and Red froze in a sitting position, dropping onto Keith's stomach. He wheezed as Adam poked his head in.

"You ok?"

"Yep."

"Ok, get some sleep. It's late."

Adam flicked off Keith's light, and it was only then that he realised how dark it had gotten. He placed Red on his desk and laid back down, falling to sleep diffcultly due to the awakeness of his eyes and the blueness of Tailor's.

~~~

Keith shouldered his backpack and walked outside, revving his bike up to go to school. It was his first day and he was most definitely _not_ excited.

When he entered the front office, he was ushered inside the Principal's Office for a quick information "fill-in," as she called it.

"Keith! I'm so glad you decided to transfer to our lovely school! Your student guide will be here in a little bit, but we still have a lot to discuss, so make yourself comfortable!" She offered Keith some candy and he took a mint awkwardly and stuck it in his pocket.

He hated mints.

Mrs. Montgomery, the principal of Garrison High, told him about all of his classes and handed him his schedule, explaining where each room was. Keith laughed nervously at some joke she made about the campus.

 _I hope that student aid gets here soon_ , Keith thought, if only to save him from the awkwardness of this situation.

As if on cue, the door to the office opened and a scrawny Hispanic boy walked in.

"Hey! The name's Lance. And you are?"

Lance reached out his hand and Keith took it, shaking it and frowning slightly.

This guy seemed... oddly familiar.

Oh well. It's just his student aid. This is probably the only time he was ever going to talk to him.

Even if he was cute.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! We now know Keith's story! 
> 
> (Next chapter, we'll focus on Lance's ;))
> 
> I'll see you guys next chapter! Thanks for reading !<3
> 
> ~YoranceOrWhatever
> 
> [I've also dcided to tell you guys what book I'm currently reading at the end because I'm always reading something new. So right now, it's Wil Grayson, Will Grayson, which is really freaking good btw. A must read]


	3. Lance's Story

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!
> 
> So here's Lance's story. It's... a lot longer than I expected, but two chapters in one month! Woo! Also I'm editing this with my cousins in the room so I'm hoping they don't read over my shoulder and all.
> 
> Anyway, I'm rewatching Voltron... again. And I still love it as much as I did the first time!
> 
> Wow I don't know what to say lol.
> 
> See you in the end notes!
> 
> ~YOW

"Oh shi-" Lance fell onto the floor, his alarm screaming at him to wake up. Gripping the back of his head, he groaned and sat up. He heard someone bang through the floor.  _Veronica_ , he thought.

"Hey, Lance! You good?" she asked. She witnessed Lance fall out of bed before. Ever since that video she filmed of him collapsing from a rough night's sleep, he has been really careful to stop falling at all. 

Clearly,  _that_ was not going to happen any time soon.

He turned towards his door and shouted, "Yeah, I'm fine! Just dropped my, uh..." Lance glanced around his room quickly, eyes landing on his summer reading assignment. "Book! My beautiful, blessed book! Dropped it!"

"Sounded heavier than a book," Veronica yelled. Lance sighed.

"Uhhhh, it was  _The Order of the Phoenix_?" He heard Veronica's grunt of understanding and heard her door close, but not before she knocked their secret pattern on her ceiling. Lance heard it and knocked back on his floor. It was really convenient to have your favorite sibling in the room right under you... not that he would ever say that in front of Luis, Marco, and Rachel. 

Lance groaned as he jumped to his feet and shut off his alarm. It was about time, too. The incessant beeping was starting to become a part of him.

 _Beep. Beep. Beep._  He could still hear the alarm in his head. That won't go away for a couple hours.

He yawned widly and stretched, looking around the room. While padding over to his closet to start picking out his outfit for the day, he heard his mother yell at him from her room.

"Lance, remember to take your nephew to summer school today!" she called. "I'm going to get some more sleep before work. Make sure to pick him up, too! Hang out with Hunk and Pidge for a bit while you wait, if you want. Love you!"

"I love you too, Mamá!" Lance yelled back. Smiling, he put on his clothes - a blue t-shirt that had a picture of some band on it and a pair of jeans with his blue Converse - and went to the bathroom to wash last night's face routine off his skin. He cringed at his reflection and went back to his room, selecting a different outfit.

Too much blue made him look like the Cookie Monster, and while he did appreciate the excitement of watching him tear into a cookie during nearly every episode of  _Sesame Street_ , he definitely did not want to relive it every time he walks past his reflection or a conveniently placed mirror.

Although, blue did bring out his eyes...

Finally settling on his usual gray and blue baseball tee, jeans, and gray cargo boots, Lance ran down to the kitchen and made himself a bowl of cereal. It was that off brand kind. Not Cheerios, but Honey O's instead. There was a big difference, but it's not like his family could afford the luxury of Cheerios. But whatever. Cereal is cereal. Food is food. He learned not to get picky.

Besides, his Mamá made the best meals he's ever tasted. And cooking for a family of five (Luis married Lisa and moved out a long time ago. They had twins named Sylvio and Nadia and Lance fucking  _loves_ them. He treats them like they're his children, except he spoils them a lot more. It just makes him the favorite uncle. Rachel moved out last year for college. Veronica and Marco still lived with them, but they're both moving out next year, leaving Lance alone. It sucks being the youngest.) is a lot harder with such a big family. Especially when the whole family comes over.

Now that was a party.

He saw Sylvio walk down the stairs, rubbing his eyes and yawning. He and Nadia been sleeping with them since Marco and Lisa went on their trip to Honduras.

Smiling, Lance poured another bowl of cereal and pushed it towards Sylvio as he dropped his Avengers backpack on the floor.

"Tío Lance, I'm in seventh grade! I'm too old for cereal!" he complained, pushing the bowl away from him. Lance tsked and pointed at him with a spoon.

"My dear, dear Sylvio. When will you learn that you are never, and will never, be too old for cereal. Now eat up, we're leaving in a few minutes." Lance shoved the bowl back in his direction, handing the milk to him as well. The cereal was already in the bowl, so he didn't have to worry about Sylvio pouring milk in before the cereal.

Heathen-like behavior he says. Heathen-like.

After finishing breakfast, Lance said goodbye to his family (and forced Sylvio to do the same) and hopped into his car, Sylvio buckling up in the backseat.

"All good back there?" He asked, adjusting the mirror and starting the car. Flipping through a couple channels, Lance finally settled on the 80's one, humming along to "Don't Stop Me Now" by Queen.

"Yes, Tío Lance," Sylvio sighed. Lance backed out of the driveway carefully and squinted at Sylvio before turning back to the wheel.

"Why do you sound so sad, kid?" Lance asked, driving away and getting ready to merge into traffic.

"I just... whatever. You won't understand." Lance gasped and stopped the car. Thankfully, it was a red light. He turned around in his seat and faced his angst-ridden nephew.

"Try me," he demanded. Sylvio frowned and squirmed in his seat, uncomfortable under Lance's steady gaze. Not wanting to ruin his relationship with Sylvio, Lance quickly added, "Come on! I'm your Tío Lance! And I'm not, like, 50 or anything. I'm 17! I have problems too, you know."

Sylvio sighed. He was really fucking mature for a 13 year old. 

"It's just... I don't want to go to summer school. Lorenzo and his friends invited me over today to play video games and everything and Lorenzo's fuuhhhh..." Sylvio stretched out the word. Lance raised an eyebrow at him in the mirror and watched as Sylvio tried to correct his error. "...Uhhhlipping. Flipping rich, Tío Lance.  _Rich_! He lives in, like, a mansion and has, like, 3 horses that we ride and he's just super cool. And I have to miss it because of school."

Lance sighed. "Yeah, I get it. Also, do you cuss at school? Like, deadass?"

"Deadass."

"Ok, well. Now that I know your precious innocence is tainted and whatnot, I'm just gonna be real with you. Summer school sucks. I was stuck in it... in 6th grade maybe? And yeah, I was only friends with Pidge and Hunk back then and yes, they hung out a fuckton of times without me - are you cool with me cussing around you? - but that just meant I had to work harder to not ever have to do summer school again. Cuz it sucks. So just get good grades in school and you should be fine. I could get you a tutor if you want too. You know, your Tía Veronica  _is_ really good at Math..."

Sylvio laughed and smiled. "Thanks, Tío Lance, but I should be ok. Also, yes, I'm ok with you cussing around me now."

"Ok good. But no cussing around Nadia, alright?"

"No shit. Her innocence hasn't been tainted yet."

Lance smiled and drove into the school parking lot, letting Sylvio grab his bag and leave.

"I'll pick you up at 3, ok?" Sylvio nodded and headed towards the school. Lance circled around and parked, partly to make sure Sylvio actually went into school and  _stayed_ at school, and partly because he needed to send Pidge and Hunk a text saying to meet him at their usual spot at 9, during his shift.

After reading their typed agreements, Lance left the school and drove to work. 

~~~ 

His work schedule was pretty weird. Work when you want to work, the boss says. She wasn't a very good boss, but her methods have been working so far, so that's good with Lance. Acxa's work rule was that whoever shows up to work first works first. They can take breaks, but they run the risk of losing their payment for the day to someone who took it while they were on break. If that makes any sense at all.

Lance walked into Altea Bakery at 8:15 am and set to work, checking in and taking freshly-baked goods from the back onto the display table. He manned the cashier for a little bit until he heard the tired voices of Pidge and Hunk waltz through the door.

Lance grinned widly and gave them a wink.

"The usual?" he asked, already typing in their orders. A black coffee and pistachio muffin for Pidge (Yuck to  _all_ of that order) and a Chamomile tea with extra honey and a sprinkled donut for Hunk (Very sweet, but Hunk was a sweet guy).

"You know it," Pidge yawned, pulling out a couple crumpled bills from her back pocket. Lance took them gingerly and put them in the register.

"What did you do to these," Lance asked her. "Stick them in the shredder?"

Pidge simply scratched the back of her head and responded "They were Matt's."

Lance nodded. Matt was notoriously messy after all.

He noticed Hunk glancing behind him and into the kitchen. Smiling, Lance waved his hand in front of Hunk's face, trying to catch his attention. He knew what Hunk was looking for. Or rather...  _who_ he was looking for.

"Hunk. Buddy. Earth to Hunk!" Hunk still didn't turn around to face him, but he did respond with a rushed "Yeah?"

"Oh man, Hunk. I'm hurt! You didn't even say hello to your bestest friend in the whole wide world!" Lance watched as Hunk tore his eyes away from the kitchen door and looked at him.

"Oh yeah. Sorry, Lance. I was just-"

"Looking for your  _girlfriend_!" Pidge cut Hunk off and smirked.

"She's not my- we're not-" Lance saw Hunk's dark face turn red and he stammered to find the right words.

Taking pity on him, Lance grinned and patted Hunk on the shoulder.

"Don't worry, buddy. I don't think Shay is in today."

"Wrong!" He heard the familiar voice of Shay walk out the kitchen door, rubber band in her mouth while she pulled her hair back.

Shay was a really attractive girl. Dark and wide, full lips and a large nose, freckles splattered across her face and body that were only visible if you looked closely. She was short, 5'4 maybe, and she was really, really hot. You  _best_ believe that Lance flirted with her the minute he got hired. Although, after Lance realised Hunk's massive crush on her, he stopped. Bros don't do that to bros. He watched as she approached them, tying her shoulder-legth black hair back and looking up at Hunk with her golden eyes.

"Hey," she smiled.

"Hey," Hunk responded breathlessly. Pidge snorted, drawing Shay and Hunk's attention.

"Just fuck already," Pidge said before grabbing her finished coffee (Thanks a bunch for making that, Ezor) and heading to an empty table. Hunk's face flushed and, poor guy, he couldn't form any legible words. Shay was just laughing, her cheeks red from embarrasment. Feeling awkward, Lance asked Ezor to cover for him at the register and made himself a coffee (extra sugar, extra milk), sitting with Pidge while watching Hunk and Shay's flustered mess.

"When do you think Hunk will tell her how he feels?" Pidge asked as Lance pulled up a chair. Sighing, Lance took a sip from his cup and looked at Hunk and Shay, who were now talking animatedly, Hunk constantly gesturing with his hands and Shay laughing and pushing him playfully over the counter.

"I dunno. I've been trying to get Hunk to apply here, but I think it's his nerves with Shay that's making him not apply at all. We need a baker like him to really help this place grow, you know?"

"Wow, Lance. That might have been the nicest thing you've ever said about anyone." Pidge sipped at her steaming hot cup of black coffee and coughed as Lance punched her in the arm.

"Rude!"

Hunk walked over then, carrying their food and his cup of tea. "What'd I miss?"

"Pidge being a jackass and hurting my oh so delicate heart!" To prove his point, Lance placed a hand on his heart and pretended to faint.

"Uh huh..." Hunk said.

"Quit being such a drama-queen," Pidge grumbled, throwing a piece of her pistachio muffin at Lance, who caught it swiftly in his mouth before making a face.

"I still don't get why you like these," he muttered, chewing quickly and drowning out the taste with his extra-sweet coffee.

"Well, pistachios help you lose weight, specifically in the gut area. You should try them sometime, Lance. They'll definitely benefit your, well... gut." Pidge took a bite of her muffin and smiled innocently.

"Why you little-" Lance leaned across the table and felt Hunk plant a big hand on his shoulder.

"Let's go see a movie!" He almost yelled. Lance nodded, sitting back down, and Pidge sipped at her drink.

"Which one?" She asked, taking another bite of her muffin. Hunk finished off his donut and swallowed, relieved that she and Lance stopped fighting.

"I don't know... I guess we'll figure it out once we get there?" he said, shaking out his hands.

"Sounds good to me," Lance said, dusting off his pants as he stood. "As long as I'm back before 3. I gotta pick up Sylvio from school."

"Oh man, summer school. I've never been, but I've heard stories," Pidge recalled, standing up and checking her phone for messages.

"Yeah. From me," Lance responded. "It's not fun."

"I assumed just as much."

The three of them walked out of Altea Bakery, chatting and bickering lightly with each other as they walked to the only movie theater in town, two blocks away. They left their cars there in fear of being separated. But maybe that was a good thing. After all, if Lance drove to the theater that day, he might've never become a hero.

~~~ 

After the movie, Lance, Pidge, and Hunk walked out, chatting about the horrific film they just watched.

"At least it was anime," Pidge argued, tossing away her remaining popcorn and drink. "That has to count for something!"

"Yeah, Pidge. But it was dubbed. Dubbed! What kind of hypocrisy was  _that_?" Lance yelled, throwing away his box of candy and taking his drink to get a refill.

Taking his popcorn bin to the employee for a refill, Hunk responded, "Pidge. It was an anime nobody knows about. Yeah, the theater was full, and how convenient was it that they had three seats left? But come on.  _Glitter Force_?"

"I liked it..." Pidge grumbled, crossing her arms. Lance threw an arm around her shoulders and smiled.

"Like what you like, pidgeon. But that was way too girly for me."

"Tell that to your nightly face routine," Pidge retorted. Lance gasped.

"Beauty! Does not come this easily! Ok, Pidge? Sometimes, I don't just wake up like this in the morning. I need a little bit of help. And only my nightly strawberry-scented bubble face mask can do the trick. So make fun of my routine all you want, but embarrasment is a low price to pay for beauty! So tease away, you little gremlin! I still know you love me." Lance planted a hand on his hip and stumbled as Pidge pushed him away.

"'Sometimes?'" she growled. Lance laughed and Hunk smiled.

"Come on, man. You don't need a face mask to be beautiful." Hunk tossed a kernel into his mouth and smiled at Lance.

"Awwww, Hunk! Bro! I My man! I love you!" Lance gave Hunk a hug and he hugged back with his free arm.

"Love you too, Lance!" He smiled.

"Blech." Pidge interrupted, pretending to gag into her hand. "As lovely as that was, I'm gonna need you guys to move on. Hunk, you're my ride and we gotta go."

"I gotta go to the bathroom. You guys go on without me!" Lance called, turning towards the direction of the restrooms.

They all said their goodbyes and went their separate ways, Lance putting his drink on the mini table in the stall while he, you know, did his business or whatever.

As he left the theater, he did one final refill on his large coke and started the short walk to his car. He figured he had a lot of time, but then he checked his phone.

"Shit, it's 2:30! Of  _fucking_ course! I have a 40 minute drive! I'm so fucking dead! Shit, shit, shit!" Lance broke out into an all-out sprint to his car. He refused to put down his drink, because if he was going down, he was taking his large, overpriced Coca-Cola down with him.

He approached a building, full speed, and prepared to round the corner. But right when he made the turn, an orange-haired man came crashing into him. 

Lance fell to the ground, his large coke spilling all over the front of his shirt. He felt his elbow smash into the floor and gasped as he felt a sharp, stinging pain emit from his arm.

Lance groaned and looked at the orange man, who too was moaning and coughing. Lance's eyebrows knit together and he crawled over to the orange-haired man, hoping to God that the wet trail sliding down his arm was just overpriced soda and nothing else. 

As he neared the man, he noticed a large gash on his side, but not a drop of soda on him. Lance cussed loudly and looked around him.

"Hey! Mr... whatever your name is! I'm gonna borrow your jacket really quick to uh..." Lance looked at the man's side and grimaced. Wet, sickly red blood was seeping out through the fabric of his clean button down shirt. Miraculously, the man's mustache seemed neat and tidy while the man groaned. "Stop the bleeding. Or whatever."

The man murmmered something about Lance having no experience and to just call the police. Frowning, Lance told him that the police couldn't come in time and that he should just let him fix it himself.

"My mom was a nurse for a while. She taught me things. I mean... not how to, you know, fix a wound  _this_ bad, but what can you do?"

The man grunted in response and shifted slightly to allow Lance to carefully take the jacket out from around his waist. He noticed a sharp tree branch poking out from a crack on the sidewalk. Of course.

He took the jacket and looked the man in the eyes, muttering, "Um. Alright. Ok. I can do this. I'm pretty sure. I mean, I saw it on a show once and, well. Here goes. This might hurt!"

The man gasped as Lance pressed the wadded-up jacket to the wound. The blood started to seep through the jacket while Lance fumbled for his phone with one hand, quickly pressing the numbers 911.

"Shit, shit, shit! Pick up, pick up, pick up.  _Please_!" Lance muttered, watching as the man slowly stopped groaning and lay there peacefully, his chest rising and falling slowly.

"Ohhhhh no you don't!" Lance yelled, adjusting his position carefully as to not hurt the man any more. "Wake up, dude! Don't die on me! I mean, we haven't met before and I don't really know why I'm so worried about you and I have to pick up my NEPHEW FROM SCHOOL and oh my fuck, he's gonna be mad and it's ok, just breathe , I'm calling for help now! Oh my God, oh my God, oh my  _God_! Ok. Please don't die."

The man's eyes slowly opened. Lance sucked in a breath. They were... really, really dark. Like dark brown. Suspiciously dark, actually.

"Cor...an..." The man whispered. Lance swore when no one picked up and redialed again.

"C-Coran!" the man sighed, giving Lance big, confused eyes.

"I don't know what the fresh  _FUCK_ you're SAYING! Ohhhh my GOD!" Lance screamed, his voice going an octave higher that what it normally was. He was panicking.

The man's hand lifted slowly as he pointed to himself. Lance gently pushed his hand back down.

"Coran, Coran... you? You're Coran? Your name is Coran?" Lance watched the man expectantly. He nodded weakly and watched while Lance's mouth formed an understanding  _O_.

"Well... hi Coran. I'm Lance... and no one's answering this fucking call. Um, I'm gonna go grab my car and drive you to the hospital. Are you ok with waiting for like 5 minutes? The sidewalk's pretty empty right now so you shouldn't run into much trouble while I'm gone. I... I hope you don't."

Coran grunted in response.

"I'm taking that as a yes. So, uh. See you in 5! Please, please,  _please_ don't die! Ok, thanks! Bye! I mean... yeah. Ok, bye!" Lance watched Coran gently apply pressure to his wound before he sprinted to his car, praying that Coran wouldn't hurt himself while he was gone.

Well... wouldn't hurt himself more.

When Lance found his car, he fumbled with the keys, muttering "Shit, fuck, crap, UGH!" before finally sticking the keys in the ignition. Lance trembled while driving quickly (yet still somewhat around the speed limit) to Coran, who was still lying on the floor, but now unconcious. Lance cussed again, getting really frustrated at the turn of events, and ran out of the car, ripping open the back door. He carried Coran gently into the car.

And man, that guy was heavy as  _shit_! 

He felt him stir and felt a glimmer of hope run through his chest as he layed Coran gently into the backseat of his Corolla. Not super stylish, but it got him to where he needed to go, so it worked. But now was not the time to focus on that!

Lance sped to the hospital and ran to the front desk, where a pretty receptionist sat idly on the phone, laughing and smiling as she talked to a loved one. After one look at Lance's face, however, she quickly put them on hold and stood up.

"Sir, is something wrong?" she asked, her voice calm and high. Her nametag read "Louithina," which was a pretty unfortunate name but whatever.

"There's a guy, or a man. Not important. His name is Coran! And he's in my car! And he's bleeding, oh my  _God_! Louith! Blood  _everywhere_! Everywhere I say!" Lance was rambling and Louithina stepped back, startled by Lance's sudden outburst. She typed something into her phone and glanced at Lance worriedly.

"I need Dr. Yeun down here immediately. We have a... problematic situation at the front desk."

Seconds later, doctors burst through the door and took Coran with them, leaving Lance's car door open. He walked out and closed it. When he got back in, Louthina handed Lance some paperwork, which he filled out to the best of his ability. Frowning, Lance looked at the line meant for the names and information of Coran's family. Not knowing what to do, Lance put down his name and number. He caused this mess, might as well figure out if the poor guy was ok. He wrote down "nephew" in the line dedicated for relation. He guessed that Coran was his uncle now.

Lance felt his phone buzz in his pocket and cussed for the millionth time that day.

"Heyyyy, Sylvio! How's my favorite nephew?" Lance grinned, hoping his nervous voice wouldn't seep through the phone. 

"Currently? Oh yeah. I'm uh, _the last fucking kid on campus_ ," Sylvio seethed. Lance flinched. He really needed to have a talk with his sister about manners with Sylvio. "When are you gonna be here?"

"I'm on my way now. It'll be about a half hour, though."

"Yeah, ok. Fine."

Lance hung up and rubbed his hands through his hair. Sighing, he turned back to the receptionist. She looked back at him with brilliantly blue eyes. Like that sky blue you can't get sick of. She had really dark skin and long white hair. Lance smiled politely and strutted over to her.

"Hey-" Lance's voice was really high. Probably from shock. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Hey! The name's Lance. I just filled out these forms. Should I give it to you, uh... Louithina? Beautiful name by the way." Lance winked at her and the receptionist glanced down at her nametag. Blushing, she turned back to Lance and smiled.

"Oh, this isn't my name," she said, tapping her nametag. She had a hint of a British accent that Lance found endearing. He leaned on the desk and listened to her calming voice. "I'm Allura. I just started working here, actually. My boss - _her_ name is Louithina - she just left for an emergency and, well. Here I am!"

"Ok, thank goodness. Allura's a much better name." Lance laughed with Allura and felt his heart beat quicker.  _Allura_. "Anyway, I haven't seen you around here before. Are you new?"

"Oh, yeah! Actually, I just moved here from, uh... somewhere else." 

"Very specific," Lance said, raising an eyebrow.

"Uh huh. Well, I'm now going to Garrison High, you know, that place around the corner from Altea Bakery."

Lance stumbled and started coughing.

"Garrison High? You go to  _Garrison High_?" Lance watched Allura nod hesitantly.

"Yes, Lonce," She said it. She said his name in her fancy British accent. Lance could die happy! "I'm going in for my final year of high school. I guess I'm going to be a... a senior? Is that... is that ok?"

"Are you kidding?" Lance shouted. He lowered his voice and couldn't stop smiling. "I go to Garrison High! Ok, wow. This is great! But uh... don't take this the wrong way, but how'd you get in? It's like, super elite and you need to be a genius to get in! I barely got in myself."

"I just tested in. Is it... supposed to be hard?" Allura frowned as Lance snorted and shook his head.

"Wow. You must be  _really_ freaking smart."

Allura smiled and held her hand out. "Give me your phone."

"What? Why?" Lance asked, even though he was already reaching into his back pocket for his phone.

Allura giggled. "So I can put my number in. You're pretty funny."

Lance blushed and handed her his phone. He watched as she typed in her number and took a selfie with the camera for her contact photo, peace sign and everything. Cute.

"Ok, back to business." Allura smiled and looked down to the computer. Typing something in, she bit her bottom lip and Lance smiled softly. "So you can visit your uncle tomorrow. The doctor said he's stabalized right now, but he won't be ready for visitors until around one tomorrow. Does that work for you?"

"My unc... Oh!" Lance's eyebrows shot up. He almost forgot about Coran! That guy he almost killed! "Yeah, thank you so much! Now I just have to pick up my nephew. He's thirteen. And he's already in his angsty teen years! How crazy is that?"

Lance always pulls this card. The child card. He knows he shouldn't and he really,  _really_ loves his niece and nephew like his own, but sometimes, he just has to pull it out. Just to push his flirt over the edge. The ladies go crazy for guys who hang with their family.

Allura lifted an eyebrow and smirked. "Ok, Loverboy. See you tomorrow."

And just like that, Lance was in love. It was easy for him to fall in love. He believes in love at first sight and for him, love at first sight was Allura. He sighed and left the building, still feeling his heart clench at the word "Loverboy." Loverboy!

He texted Allura as he sat in his car. "Hey! It's Lance. Do you want to go see a movie this Saturday?"

He pressed send and yelped, throwing his phone into the backseat.  _What the hell did I just do? Stupid, Lance! Stupid! It's too soon for that. Way too soon!_

Lance groaned and let a hand drag down his face. He turned around to grab his phone.  _It's over, she'll never talk to you again, accept it_.

As he looked for his phone, he noticed a small box with a large blue V-like symbol stretching on the top. Lance grabbed it and his phone and brought it to the front. He's never seen anything like this before. Maybe it was from Coran! But... it wasn't bloody at all. In fact, his car seemed to be brand new, not a speck of blood anywhere! Even though he drove Coran, a man bleeding profusely out of his side, his car looked brand  _fucking_ new! What the hell? He wasn't complaining. Lance put the box to the side and started up the car, getting ready for a thirty minute drive to pick up Sylvio.

Riveting.

~~~

"Tío Lance!" Sylvio ran up to his car and wrenched open the backseat door, tossing his bag in.

"Wow, you seem happy," Lance laughed, relieved that Sylvio wasn't clawing at his face for being nearly an hour late. "What's gotten you in this mood?"

"Lorenzo rescheduled! He wanted to know if I wanted to see a movie with him and some of my other friends tonight! Can I go, Tío Lance?  _Please_?" Lance watched Sylvio look up at him with big brown eyes. Lance laughed again.

"Alright, kiss-ass. I'll talk to your mom for you." Sylvio gasped and threw his arms around Lance's shoulders. This was... really unlike him. But Lance was liking the attention, so he didn't care. Sylvio was just kissing up to him so he could convince his step-sister to let him hang out with his friends. What's the worst that could happen?

"Thanks, Tío Lance!" he screeched. Lance started up the car and drove away.

"Yeah, well. Don't thank me yet, chico. And quit being so excited. You're scaring me," Lance said, laughing nervously. Sylvio's smile faltered and Lance immediately felt guilty. What the hell was wrong with him? Let the kid be happy!

The day was so crazy, Lance couldn't blame himself for being a little shaken and, to be honest, really grumpy. He felt really fucking bad.

"Hey, uh. You want to go to Baskin Robbins? It's the thirty-first! Thirty one cents a scoop. You can't say no to a good deal, I say." Lance made a U-turn when he saw Sylvio's smile plaster back onto his face, his eyes going wide and bright. Lance smiled and drove to the ice cream shop.

"And one more thing," Lance caught Sylvio's bright eyes in the mirror. "No hanging with your friends tonight if you still have homework, alright?"

"Yeah, yeah. I know the deal!" Sylvio hopped out of the car when Lance parked and bounced excitedly while waiting for him to get out. Lance sighed and left the car, tucking the little box under the seat. Whatever was inside... well. Lance didn't want it getting stolen. It would have to wait.

~~~ 

Lance woke up the next morning before his alarm, which was suspiciously out of character for him. Groaning, he took his pillow and hit himself over the head, clutching the pillow to his face and willing himself to sleep longer. 

Today was supposed to be a good day with the house all to himself. A rare occurence.

Mamá was taking Sylvio to school today since she had to leave for work early anyway and Papá left last night for a quick trip to Vegas. Marco went with him. That underage bastard. Veronica spent the night at her friend's place, so she wouldn't be home for a while. Lance sighed, realizing that he didn't have to pretend anymore... at least not until one. He still has to visit Coran. 

Lance rested his face for the first time in weeks. He had a resting sad face. Not quite a bitch face but not quite a normal one. It's gotten to the point where Lance trained his eyes to always crinkle, his mouth to constantly be on the edge of a smile. He spent hours perfecting the look in front of the bathroom mirror last time he had the house to himself. People stopped asking him what was wrong all the time. All that asking made him think that something really _was_ wrong... specifically with him.

Lance didn't want his family to find out that he was feeling frustrated with himself all the time. Sometimes, he doesn't even expect the thoughts that come with the frustration. His family would be talking and Lance would try to voice his opinion, but it always seemed to go ignored.  _Shut up_ , the thoughts would say. _No one cares. No one wants to hear anything you're saying. You're stupid to think they care. Stay quiet, you shithead. You dumbfuck. Stay quiet. Don't speak unless spoken to. Idiot._

The worst part about it was that Lance listened. He shut up. Of course he did. What else could he do? He hated that he listened, but he couldn't help it. The thoughts just kept coming, saying to shut up or that he wasn't good enough.

That was always the thing. He wasn't good enough. He knew he wasn't, and he preferred to keep that knowledge to himself. The last time he explained his troubles to his family, they just kept saying that he  _was_ good enough. They sat him down and asked if he needed a therapist and everything. It was humiliating. And they never mean it. Lance knows they never do by the worried glances they exchanged. Lance never brought it up again. He put on his face, said a few jokes, and called it a day.

And his family never suspected a thing.

Lance took the pillow off his face and looked at the little table next to his bed. His room was blue and ocean-themed. He loved it. There were ocean-blue walls, a white, rusted desk, chair, and dresser, and piles upon piles of books stacked around the room. His walls were covered with every picture ever given to him from his family and friends, but the wall where his bed was placed was covered with photos. Polaroids, notes, the whole thing. Lance fucking  _loves_ his room.

On the little side table near his bed, the box sat idly, urging him to open it. Lance sat up and took the box in his hands. What the hell. Might as well take a little peek.

He opened it and screamed at something flew out, slamming the box shut. Lance jerked his head around the room, trying to figure out what happened, but whatver the hell that was, it was gone now. Breathing heavily, Lance slowly opened the box again.

Nothing happened.

"The hell..." Lance opened the box all the way and looked inside. There was nothing there but the white walls inside. Lance felt around, looking for any hidden pockets. Then, he shook it, looking for any sign of, well, anything. He lifted the box to his eye and peered inside.

_Hey, Lance! What are you doing?_

Lance screamed.

Now he usually doesn't do that... mostly. Screaming, he means. But something was talking to him. He was pretty sure. Lance frowned when he couldn't see anything. He looked around his room once more, but couldn't find anything suspicious. Cautiously, Lance moved towards his wall and planted his back against it, grabbing the nearest weapon - a hardcover copy of _The Order of the Phoenix_.

Convenient.

Holding the book above his head, Lance screamed, "Who's there?"

_Ok, Lance. Don't freak out._

"God?"

_No, for the love of- ok. I'm not God._

"Then wha- HOLY FUCKING SHIT!"

A small blue robotic lion flew out of Lance's open closet. Lance screeched and threw the book at it, missing horrifically. The lion watched the book fall and turned its head back to Lance.

_Seriously?_

"What the  _hell_ are you?" Lance screamed, reaching around for something else to throw. He settled on one of his pens and threw it at the lion. It simply swerved a bit to the right and the pen embedded itself into Lance's white wooden closet. He groaned.

"That's gonna take forever to fix!" he pouted, crossing his arms.

_Are you done?_

"...Maybe?"

_Ok great. Anyway, I'm Blue. You're my paladin now._

"I'm your pala-what now?"

_My paladin. You are going to be a protecter of Altea and really freaking powerful. But I hope we can be friends. I like being friends with my paladins._

"Um... alright?" Lance frowned and scratched the back of his neck. "So, uh... is this, like, real? Or am I hallucinating? Am I still dreaming? I'm still dreaming aren't I?"

 _No, this is real. And I just wanted to let you know that you don't have to always_ talk  _to me to talk to me, you know? Like, just think something and I'll hear it._

 _Like this?_  Lance thought, squinting his eyes.

_Perfect._

"Cool." Lance walked over to his bed and sat on it, crossing his legs and leaning back against his wall. The lion floated towards him and nestled into a pile of messed up blankets at the foot of his bed. Lance smiled calmly. He didn't expect to be so... ready for this. He always felt kind of empty and this just filled the void a little bit. A pet lion that flies  _and_ talks? That would be great to tell his friends!

 _Oh, um... yeah you can't do that_. The lion lifted its head, looking into Lance's eyes deeply.  _No one can know I exist. This only stays between you and me, understand? I'm sorry for being so harsh, but we can't go around telling people that you're Altea's guardian. It'll be hard to take in. But you'll be given a disguise, weapon, and super secret power that is fitted to you and your personality, so don't worry about that. All you have to think of now is your name._

"My name..." Lance scratched his ear and lit up. "I can be the Tailor!"

_Why?_

"Because of how I  _thread the needle_." Lance waggled his eyebrows and he felt the lion laugh. It was weird. Like, bubbly and happy, but he felt it more than he heard it. It made Lance happy too and he grinned.

 _I'm not even going to ask_ , Blue chuckled.

Lance... well, he could get used to this. He lounged back. "So how do you, um... transform? If that's what it's called at all." He laughed nervously.

_Oh, I almost forgot about that part! Just say the words "Form Voltrn" and everything will make sense._

"Alright. Form Voltron!" Lance stood up and smirked. The lion disappeared, but he heard a thought churning in his head.

_A little bit of a warning next time would be great!_

Lance felt his fingers and toes itch, but pleasantly. It was the kind of itch you didn't want to scratch, if that even existed. The feeling rushed through his body and he laughed, allowing the feeling to consume him. He closed his eyes to it and smiled.

When he opened his eyes, he felt different. Lighter and more energized. Not only that, but his vision was sharper too. He could read every sentence clearly, word by word of the book sitting on his desk on the other side of the room without even having to squint or hesitate. Lance looked at his hands, faintly glowing in the dimness of his room, created by the touch of the setting sun.

He wandered over to his mirror and gasped.

He had white hair. Like, pure white. Allura white! And under his eyes were two blue glowing marks, he touched them gently and felt it pulse under his fingertips. Smiling, Lance looked at himself up and down. He was in a skin-tight black suit covered in bulky pieces of armor all in white with blue accents splattered here and there. A giant blue v, similar to the one on the box, spread out across his chest He could barely even recognize himself! His eyes glowed a faint blue, but it was covered by a blue mask. It was like those generic superhero masks. You know, like the kind that are shaped like little infinities, yet for some reason never covered the eyes or the rest of the face? The funny thing was that it helped bring out the blue marks under his eyes. 

He also had little cat ears above on his head. Cute.

While Lance was checking himself out in the mirror, he whispered, "Woah..."

_I know, right? Coran designed it himself. It's called your paladin armor._

"Coran did this?" Lance quirked an eyebrow, smiling slowly.

_Shoot! I wasn't supposed to tell you. You were supposed to figure it out on your own! I'm so stupid._

"You're not stupid. Don't worry."

 _And you_ are _good enough. I mean, you were chosen to protect Altea. That has to account for something._

Lance froze and held his breath.

"I'm... I'm not. Really. But thanks for the, uh, support."

 _No problem_ , Blue said gently. Patiently. Lance cleared his throat.

"So. Not going back into that conversation again," he laughed awkwardly. "So what now?"

_What do you mean?_

"Well I have to detransform if I'm visiting Coran at one. Also, I'm seeing Allura there too." Lance smiled, lovestruck once again.

The lion chuckled.  _I'm sure you want to see Allura. But she is not the one._

"What do you-"

_You'll see._

"You know what, Blue? I'm getting sick of these games."

_Yeah, yeah. Don't you have to leave soon?_

Lance turned to the clock. "You've  _got_ to be kidding me. It can't possibly be 12 already! I didn't even change. I didn't even-" Lance gasped.

"Ok, Blue. You have to let me detransform."

_Why didn't you just say so?_

Lance felt the familiar itching sensation and watched as his costume faded away in the mirror. And just like that, Lance was back. His tousled brown hair, startled blue eyes, and plaid blue pajama pants stared back in his reflection. Lance sprinted to the bathroom and splashed his face with cool water, washing it with his anti-acne soap.

_Seriously?_

Blue was back, hovering in the corner of Lance's vision while he dab-dried his face. Never wipe. You never wipe-dry your face.

"What? This acne-free face doesn't just happen overnight. It takes work."

 _Ok_ , Blue laughed. _Now hurry up. You're gonna be late for your appointment._

Lance threw on a pair of jeans and sneakers, settling on a white t-shirt with the words "Let's get down to business" written on it. What can he say?  _Mulan_ was a fucking bomb movie.

_Agreed._

Lance grabbed his keys and rushed out of his house. The clock read 12:15 and the hospital was really far away. Traffic was gonna be a _bitch_. He dialed Allura's number and set her on Bluetooth. He knew it was illegal, but he was hoping to God that no one would pull him over today.

"Hello?"

"Hey, yeah. It's Lance. I'm gonna be running a bit late. Maybe 30 minutes? Can I still see Coran at 1:30?"

He heard Allura laugh. "Oh! Hey, Lance! Yeah, you can see him at 1:30. I don't think he has many visitors anyway-"

Lance heard someone talk to Allura in an oddly familiar voice. He listened to the sound of murmmered voices that Lance could only assume was caused by someone placing their hand on the phone. He frowned and signaled to get into a lane.

"Sorry about that," Allura said.

"No problem. Is now a bad time?"

"No, no. Everything's great! Something odd just happened in the hospital, though. We think a patient might have gone missing."

"Missing?" Lance coughed. "How can a patient just... disappear?"

"Not sure. We're going to investigate now."

"Ok, well. Be careful."

Allura laughed. "Will do. I'll talk to you later!"

"Yeah, yeah. See you soon." Lance didn't hear the click of the phone that signaled she hung up, so he kept thinking of something funny to say to her. Lance's heart beat fast as he remembered the text. "Wait! Allura! You still there?"

He heard rushed footsteps and heavy breathing. "Yes! Lance! Are you ok?"

"Yeah!"

And then came the awkward pause of silence. Lance took a deep breath.

"Well...?" He heard Allura shift the phone and Lance coughed again.

"About the text..." 

"Text? What text?"

"Uh, nevermind! I'll be there soon! Bye!"

"Oh, um. Ok. Bye!"

Lance breathed a sigh of relief and hung up. He opened Spotify and put on his playlist.  _I guess it didn't deliver_ , he thought. _That's good. That's- Oh thank you, Jesus!_

_You seem disappointed._

Lance jumped and glanced around the car, hands tightening on the wheel. His eyes settled on Blue, hovering in the backseat of his car.

"How did you get in here?"

_I'm always here. Wait, no. That sounds creepy. Um...maybe I can give you an example. Have you read Percy Jackson?_

"No, but I've seen the movies, if that counts. They were pretty good."

_Ew, no! The movies are disgusting! I'm disappointed, Lance._

Lance blushed, ashamed of himself for a second.

_Why are you ashamed?_

"Because you're getting mad at me for liking the movies!"

_No, I- nevermind. But you know Riptide? The pen that, when lost, always returns to Percy's pocket?_

"Yeah..."

_Well, It's like that. Only, I don't return to you automatically. I just... know where you are. And I can float on over to you._

"So like a tracker."

_Yeah, basically._

"Then why didn't you just say that before?"

Blue went silent.

"Ok, bye then."

Lance drove the rest of the way in silence, listening to Beyoncé sing about all the single ladies. He glanced back every once in a while to see Blue sitting on the carseat, bopping his head in tune to the music. Or rather, _her_ head. Lance looked back to the road.

This was gonna be a long drive.

~~~

"Lance! Thank God you're here. We have some horrific news!" 

Allura came rushing to Lance as soon as he opened the doors to the hospital, wrapping her strong arms around his neck. Blushing, Lance wrapped his around her waist.

"Hi to you too, I guess. What's wrong?"

Allura pulled away from him and held Lance by the shoulders to face him.

"It's your uncle. He- he was the patient that disappeared."

"You're kidding me." Lance ran a hand through his hair and glanced back towards the door. "I, uh. I'm gonna go look for him."

"Ok. We've contacted the poli-" Allura's phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out and read the name calling her, glancing back up to Lance. "I've got to take this. Good luck, Lance."

"Thanks..." Lance tried to say, but Allura was already off, placing the phone to her ear.

"Hey, babe. What's up?"

And just like that, Lance's heart shattered. She had a boyfriend _. Of course she does! What was I thinking? A girl like that is obviously taken!_

Lance turned to the door and walked back out, cussing under his breath.

Why does he always think he has a chance?

~~~

Lance decided to leave his car and walk around the block. His hands shoved deep into his pockets, Lance sulked down the block, his thoughts swimming around his head telling him how useless and unlovable he was.

_Ignore the thoughts, Lance. They'll go away soon. Don't worry._

Lance looked around and saw Blue hovering next to him, landing on Lance's backpack and hooking itself onto it securely.

"Yeah, well. I'm used to it."

_But you shouldn't be used to it. Also, stop talking to me out loud. People are staring._

Lance glanced around and, sure enough, a group of young teens were looking at him strangely and whispering amongst one another. Rolling his eyes, Lance squinted his eyes at them and they turned away. He rounded the corner and froze.

_Uhhhhh, Blue? What the hell is that?_

A large shadow crept slowly from the sky, descending onto the street. Or, it seemed to be moving slowly. The closer it got, the faster it seemed to go. It was heading towards an abandoned apartment building and the street seemed to be deserted. Thank God. Lance ran back around to the kids and pointed at the flying thing.

_It's the Galra! Warn them, Lance!_

_What do you think I'm trying to do?_

"Get out!" Lance shouted. The kids turned to him, startled at his sudden outburst. None of them moved. Lance pointed to the thing hurtling towards Earth again. "Listen. Unless you want to be crushed by that cool flying spaceship thing, I suggest you get as far away from here as possible.  _Please_."

The kids glanced at each other and turned to where Lance was pointing. Their eyes widened and a girl shrieked, dragging everyone away.

_Good, Lance. Now get to that ship before it hurts anyone!_

_Can I say the words now? Is this what I'm for?_

_Go ahead._

"Form Voltron!"

~~~ 

The ship ended up crashing into the abandoned apartment building, Lance scowled at the noise. In his cool superhero outfit, no one recognized him. That means he could do whatever he wanted to these things! Of course, he didn't want to kill them. That's just weird. He doesn't intend to go all DC and kill every villain he comes across. No. He wants whatever comes out of there to live. 

Lance instinctively reached for his belt, his hand grabbing something small and hefty.

 _Interesting_ , he heard Blue say with curiousity.  _A pistol. I haven't seen a warrior with a pistol before in a couple decades._

"I'm a warrior?"

 _Back to talking out loud?_  Blue asked. Lance smiled.

"It makes me feel awesome. Like a cool ninja sharpshooter, you know? Pow, pow!" Lance pointed his pistol at the ship and pulled the trigger twice, jumping when two small, hot blue lazers struck something getting out of the ship. The thing twitched and collapsed onto the floor, smoke rising from its unconcious body.

"Ok. That just happened." Lance felt his heart beat fast with adrenaline. "That guy better not be dead."

_Don't be silly! That's a druid's machine. They're like people, except robotic._

"They're animatronics?"

_What?_

"Nevermind. But that means I can shoot them all I want and my morality won't take a hit?"

_No. It won't affect your morality in any way. It will definitely give you an ego-boost, though._

"Nice," Lance smirked and aimed and the animatronics creeping out of the ship. "Let's do this, Blue."

~~~ 

Lance charged at the druid creature things, blasting them down left and right. He thanked his dad for taking him to the shooting range so many times. Lance was a naturally good shot. No one really knew why. He always hit the target. Never flinched when the gun hitched because of the absence of bullets. His family even teased him on how good he was at shooting. They said "Watch out, mijo! Those white people hate it when we're better at something than they are. Especially hunting!"

His family always laughed at that. Lance hated that joke. Why would he ever hunt? That's... is that who they thought he was? Lance always laughed nervously, but never agreed. He was too busy trying not to scream to correct them anyway.

Shaking the thought out of his head, Lance aimed and shot, taking down an animatronic thing before feeling something bump against his shoulder. Lance struck out with his elbow, landing a crushing blow to the face of an oncoming robot. Lance yelped and rubbed his elbow, waiting for the next wave of bots.

That... was not the best idea.

The bots came pouring out of everywere, street corners, alleys and all. Lance gulped.

"Oh shit." He raised his gun and felt around his hip, hand resting on a second pistol hanging on it. He grapsed it and started shooting, watching the bots fall to the ground, twitching and smoking. But no matter how many he shot down, it seemed like the bots kept coming. Shoot one down get five in return.

They started closing in fast, clutching staffs that glowed purple with streaks of electricity shooting out. Whatever the hell that was, he definitely didn't want to be around to see it. Or feel that. It looked painful.

He looked around desperately for help. He couldn't be the only warrior, could he? That's when his eyes settled on a purple blur, running right towards him. It stopped a couple feet away from Lance and stared at him for a moment. Lance shot down another bot and came jogging over to the man-like creature, only one question running through his head.

"Hey!" he called, shooting a bot over his shoulder without looking. "Why are you pur-"

"Look out!" The man-creature thing tore a knife out of his belt and threw it towards Lance's face.

 _This is it_ , Lance thought.  _This is how it ends. A purple furry stabbing me right between the eyes. Lovely._

Lance shut his eyes in anticipation for the attack. He waited. And waited. And... waited. Then he opened his eyes. The furry was running towards him with incredibly quick speed. Lance was jealous.

_Why don't I get superspeed?_

Blue stayed silent, but he felt the bubbly clench of laughter fill his body. He sighed.

_Gee, thanks girl._

Lance turned to the furry, watching as he ripped the knife out of the robot's body. Cringing, Lance cleared his throat. The furry turned to him, a dark purple eyebrow quirking upward. Lance felt pinned by its golden eyes. He shifted uncomfortably and held his hand out, fumbling with his pistol before putting it back to its belt.

"The name's Tailor. What's yours?" The furry glanced down at Lance's open hand and looked away. Lance lowered his hand slowly, his smile fading away.

Who did this guy think he was?

"Uhhh..." The furry scratched the back of his neck and Lance shot some approaching bots, squinting his eyes at the furry. "Yorak?"

Lance snorted. 

"Yorak?" he shouted, trying extremely hard to contain his laughter. He shot down a few more bots and looked at him. Lance frowned and wondered why he wasn't stabbing any more robots with his knife. He shot down an approaching bot and coughed at the smoke. Incredulously, he asked, "You're a purple furry named Yorak?"

Yorak's face snapped to him quickly and Lance chuckled. The furry stepped towards Lance so that they were nose-to-nose and Lance scowled.

"I'm  _not_ a furry," he hissed, stabbing an oncoming bot and turning back to Lance, staring with incredible interest. Unsure of what to do, Lance glanced down at his hand and noticed the soft purple fur coating it. Without thinking, Lance reached out and placed his hand on Yorak's, flinching when he ripped his hand away, a look of surprise plastering his face before it sealed back into a moody stone look. He could sense the fury hiding behind his eyes, but all Lance could think of was the softness of his hand. He shook the thought out of his head, disgusted with himself. What the hell was wrong with him?

Coughing, Lance said, "You feel pretty furry to me."

Yorak sighed and muttered, "Yeah, well....shut up." Lance flinched again, the words getting too familiar with the ones received at home from his siblings. "What are these things anyway?"

Lance punched a robot coming his way and racked his brain for a word other than 'robots.' 

_They're the druid's sol-_

"Druids!" Lance shouted, glancing back at Yorak.

_No, Lance. They're not... nevermind._

"I don't know how to stop them. They just keep coming," Lance screamed, taking down a few more bots. "Any ideas?"

"Attack them at the base!" Yorak screamed back over the sound of Lance's lazer beams. Lance turned to him and frowned. "I'll attack them at the base. You hold them off until I do."

Lance raised both his eyebrows at him, surprised at his quick thinking. "Roger that, Yorak."

He watched Yorak smirk and turned away, grabbing his second pistol out of the holster at his hip and firing. 

"And Tailor?" He jumped when Yorak spoke again, already having thought that he left. He turned to him and waited for Yorak to continue. "If a druid attacks me, well. Don't miss."

Lance smiled, feeling his eyes crinkle. He liked having someone to talk to like this. It was refreshing from the seriousness that normally surrounds him. Usually, he's the one trying to make jokes and everyone else just shoots him down. Maybe it was different with Yorak.

"Wouldn't dream of it, kitten," Lance joked. Yorak froze and turned to him, raising an eyebrow and cocking his head to the side in confusion.

Or maybe he was wrong and Yorak was just like everyone else.

"You know. Cat ears?" Lance flushed, trying to save himself from that embarrasing line. He gestured to his ears and to Yorak's long ears poking out of his dark purple hair. Desperatly, he gestured back and forth, urging Yorak to get the hint. When he didn't, Lance sighed and slumped his shoulders. "Nevermind."

He watched Yorak run away, slicing down enemies any time they came within arm length of him. In his state of awe, Lance almost forgot to cover him. He raised both pistols and took aim, shooting down all the bots that dared to come near Yorak. One by one they began dropping like flies, giving Yorak a lot more space to run.

He kept shooting for what felt like years until the last bot dropped. He looked around at the carnage, grateful that the bots were too dumb to actually get a hit in. Sighing with relief, Lance stretched and put the pistols away, getting ready to look for Yorak.

That's when the ground shook.

A large rumble echoed through the empty streets and Lance collapsed onto his knees, covering his ears. He clenched his eyes shut and waited for the rumbling to stop. When it finally did, Lance opened his eyes, ears ringing and head pounding, to the looming shadow of a rising ship.

Not knowing what to do, Lance stumbled to his feet and chased after the ship, raising both pistols and shooting at it in a blind attempt to take it down. A small purple head poked out, barely visible due to the gaining height of the ship. Lance stopped shooting, scared that he might hurt Yorak. 

Then, Yorak jumped.

"What the  _hell_ are you doing?" Lance shouted, watching Yorak as he fell, getting bigger and bigger by the second. Before he landed, Lance yelped and ran away, hearing Yorak land next to him. He was afraid to turn back and look at him fo rthe fear that if he turned, all he'll see is a bunch of broken bones and blood.

Working up the courage, Lance turned and stared at Yorak, who was stumbling  and reaching out blindly for support. Instinctively, Lance ran forward and steadied him, Yorak muttering something under his breath. 

Breathing heavily, Lance let go of him shouted, "How'd you do that?"

_Can I do that?_

_Yes, Lance. I believe you can._

_You_ believe  _I can? So if I jump off a building right now, I_ might  _survive?_

_...Maybe. Chances are, yes.It depends on your weight, which for you? Not a problem._

_You calling me scrawny, Blue?_

"I just jumped." Lance's attention snapped Back to Yorak's, regarding him for a second before placing a hand on his hip and cocking it to the side.

"Well, yeah. No shit," Lance responded, pursing his lips. Yorak stared at him and Lance noticed that the knife he was carrying was back on his hip, pulsing with a purple light. Lance didn't think that was a good thing.

"Nice knife," he said, nodding to the blade. "Why's the symbol blinking?"

Yorak stared at him, eyes wide and mouth opening and closing, as if he wanted to say something but couldn't quite figure out what that "something" was. He looked like a lost little fuzzy golfish and Lance had to surpress the urge to laugh. Yorak glanced down at his knife and started.

"Oh. Thanks. Uh, I don't really know why it's doing that..." Yorak motioned helplessly at the knife and froze, glancing back at Lance before gazing off into the distance mysteriously. Lance watched him slowly tense all over and raised an eyebrow.

"I have to go," Yorak announced, looking anywhere but at Lance. Confused, Lance reached out, but Yorak already turned and started running. Not knowing what to do, Lance chased after him. He was his partner! The least Yorak could do was tell him who he was! He could be some hot guy hiding behind that purple furry mask and Lance would never know unless he figured it out now. He knew the suspense would  _kill_ him.

"What? Why?" Lance shouted, trying to get him to stop. It worked. Yorak tensed again and stopped, turning slowly to look at Lance. Good thing that he stopped too. Lance could never catch up with him. Not while he had superspeed. Yorak looked at him expectantly, waiting, Lance assumed, for a reason as to why he was stopped mid-Cinderella disappearing act. Frantically,  he added, "We literally just met!"

That was not a good reason. 

Yorak stared at him and opened his mouth... then closed it. Again. Back to the goldfish act? 

"I... Listen. I'm gonna... change back. Soon. And if I don't get out of here, you're gonna know who I am. And I  _seriously_ can not take that kind of pressure right now."

Yorak turned and was ready to run again but before he could go, Lance grabbed his arm.

He honestly didn't know why he was trying so hard to get to know this mystrey purplr person. Desperaion probably? Maybe it was the heartbreak of Allura. He was so sure she was the one! 

_I guess that's what you meant when you said that she wasn't the one._

_You're thinking of this_ now _? Seriously? You have this potentially hot guy right in front of you and you're practically_ grasping  _his hand with yours! Quit thinking about your supposed heartbreak and_ move on _!_

Lance, forgetting what he was gonna say, ended up whispering one word: "Why?"

Sure it was only one word. And sure, it didn't seem like such an exciting word. But Lance put everything into it. He put all of his pain into that one word. He channeled the anger from hiding himself, the frustration of wanting something-or someone- he could never have. He wanted Yorak to understand for some reason. He felt that he would get it. He guessed that fighting together would do that for you. Immediate trust. And the idea of not seeing him - not seeing the real Yorak - could help him figure things out. This guy might not even go to Garrison High! He seemed smart though.

Yorak blinked at him for a second, stuttering over his words. Finally sucking in a deep reath, he getnly moved his hand away from Lance's and shook his head.

"I... I can't. Uh. Not going to happen. Sorry." Lance felt the words sting him. He didn't know why. Another rejection in the bag he guessed. Lance took a step back in confusion and watched as Yorak ran away, not sparing another glance back at Lance.

~~~

"And you're absolutely sure someone will come and clean that mess up?" Lance was walking back to his car and refusing to look at the chaos behind him. He felt the familiar itching sensation consume him and let it happen as he walked, refusing to stop for anything.

_Yes, Lance! And for the thousanth time, quit speaking out loud when you're talking to me! People will start talking._

"Then let them talk! There's no one here anyway- hey, hey, HEY!" Lance whipped out his phone and placed it to his ear, trying to save some dignity for himself. A small girl just rounded the corner and stared at Lance, who stared right back before laughing nervously into the phone.

"Hey, man," Lance laughed into the "phone."

_Man? I am a smart, educated pride lioness. Emphasis on "ness."_

"Yeah, yeah. I know. But I have to go now. I'll see you later?"

 _Whatever_.

Lance pretended to hang up and turned to the little girl, who continued to stare at Lance. Smiling politely, he crouched down and smiled at her. She loked past him into the mess and opened her mouth wide.

"Oh, no no no! No! No crying for you-"

She screamed.

Hurriedly, Lance grabbed her hand and led her away from the scene and to a worried looking woman, pacing the sidewalk and talking on her phone. When she saw Lance and her daughter approach, sniffling with tears, she hung up and walked over to them quickly.

"Thank you, young man! I was looking for her everywhere! God bless you," the woman ranted for what seemed like years and Lance smiled big and wide.

If this was was saving people was like, he was glad to start doing it all the time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey!
> 
> So I've decided to delete the Instagram bc my cousin followed me and he might tell people and, well. Klancers are getting so much shit right now that I don't think I can handle it. I'm trying to be a nice one and there's not many these days with all the death threats and all, I just... I don't get it. Why are people so mean?
> 
> Ok sorry for the rant.
> 
> SO! Thanks for reading! Hope you liked!
> 
> [I'm reading Dear Evan Hansen now. Soooo good]
> 
> Ok bye! See you next chapter.
> 
> ~YOW

**Author's Note:**

> Well, that was wild.
> 
> I'm honestly just winging this (but I have many plans and surprises for you guys later ;)). I felt like that was kind of rushed but oh well. I'm sorry about all the typos, I'll read it over and edit it in a few days. I'll try to update every weekend if I can, but don't hold me accountable! 
> 
> Hope you liked and see you next chapter!
> 
> ~YOW


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